


A Mere Voice and Vision

by threerings



Category: Charlotte Bronte- Jane Eyre
Genre: F/M, Yuletide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-25
Updated: 2006-12-25
Packaged: 2017-10-03 00:43:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/threerings/pseuds/threerings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Edward Rochester and Jane on their wedding night.  Rochester POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Mere Voice and Vision

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Yuletide 2006. Special thanks to my beta, Shangrilogic. She helped me immensely. Any remaining mistakes are mine. Thanks to Laura Kaye for a great prompt.

Jane led me by the hand to our marriage bed.

My sweet and vexing angel led me to the edge of what until tonight has been my bed alone, now ours to share. I sat on the soft mattress and reached for her, disappointment escaping my lips when she pulled away from me.

"Blast it woman, where are you going? Am I not now your husband? Did you not speak the vows this time? Had I my old strength I would chase you down and lift you bodily onto our bed!"

"Patience, Edward. I am securing the door and turning down the lights. I would not wish for John or Mary to overhear any of your nonsense."

"Nonsense? I'll make you regret that." I heard her soft footsteps and the brush of her skirts approach me. "Jane," I said softly, afraid now that she may retreat from the coming skirmish, that she may have changed her mind, faced with this wreck of a man. "Janet, come here."

My good arm reached out for her and made contact with the fabric of her gown, sweeping up to encircle her waist as I pulled her to me. She settled on my knee with a laugh, her hand brushing my hair from my blind eyes. I felt her lips brush both my eyelids and then my forehead, a memory of the night on which she returned to me. My heart was comforted then with that sweet remembrance of her love. I raised my head, seeking her lips. She took pity on me, and I felt her lips brush mine, but they left only the politest of kisses there.

"No, my girl, not tonight." My hand found her hair, and I pulled her lips to mine, perhaps a trifle roughly. When her lips parted under mine, I gathered she did not object. And there, oh there, was my Jane. The taste of her filled me, her sweet lips opening, her tongue meeting mine without hesitation. I had always known of her passion and tonight I was to revel in it.

My hand was at the nape of her neck, my thumb tracing lines up and down. She arched her back and pressed against me. When our kiss was broken, I could hear her ragged breath, and I believe I smiled then. When she spoke I could hear the answering smile in her voice. "Edward." Her hand ran down my chest lightly. I heard the intake of her breath, as if she would speak, but she then said nothing, only buried her face in my shoulder.

I tried to reach for her with my left hand, only to realize it was no longer there. A poor mangled stump is all that remains. One would think I would remember that fact. I hung my head, moving Jane onto the bed itself, until she was seated next to me. I moved my good hand over her shoulder, feeling my way across her clavicle to the row of tiny buttons of her blouse. I fumbled at those small pearls, willing myself to be calm. Jane's hand stopped my gesture.

"I understand, my love. But before I disrobe..." She brushed my hand away then, and it fell at my side. I could not discern what movements she made, but her weight on the mattress shifted. Then I started as her hand touched my chest, running down from my neck to my belly and back up to the tie at my throat. I shivered to feel the warmth of her hands through the cotton of my shirt. Jane's small, deft hands quickly worked at the knot, loosening my tie and my collar. She removed my suitcoat, and I struggled my arms free of the fabric. Next she moved to the buttons of my shirt, unfastened them one by one. The air of the room was cold against my bare flesh, but only for a moment before her warm hands caressed their way across my rough skin. I must have made some noise then either of pleasure or longing because she laughed again, pressing her face against my naked chest and planting a kiss over my breast bone. I held her for a long moment to feel her warmth move through me, spreading into places I had thought long cold.

Eventually she pulled away and her weight left the bed. I moaned at the loss of contact with her, but her finger to my lips silenced my protest. I heard rustling sounds and various scuffs of fabric and shoes on the floor. "Damnable woman, what on earth are you about?"

She laughed once again, that soft, infuriating laugh that was uniquely hers. "Husband, I am doing as you wished and removing my clothing. In fact, that task is now completed, and I stand shivering before you without any covering."

I admit that my breath caught at that. "Curse these blasted eyes. The sight of you...I would have walked to Egypt and back for that sight, and now you are directly before me and it is denied to me!" Jane's hand caught mine then, startling me again with her closeness.

"Then you are lucky you have a hand remaining with which to learn my body." And she placed my hand on her bare belly, the feel of that soft skin nearly my undoing. I gave my fingers full reign across her wondrous skin, up to her breast and down to her thigh. I let out a growl of sorts then, grasping her with my arm and using my weight to pull her into a prone position beneath me. My Jane gasped at that, then laughed to find herself pinned beneath me. I also smiled.

"If you thought me a beast tamed by tragedy and your gentle magics, elf, I will teach you what power I have left," I said lowly into her ear. I felt her move beneath me and she kissed me at my throat. I smiled again and set to my task of teaching her of the pleasure of the body.

My first goal was to learn the surface of her flesh with the only tools left to me: the fingers of my right hand. I trailed my hand over, around, and into all the swells and planes of her skin, until I was confident in my knowledge of them and she had grown accustomed to my touch. I followed the movements of my hand with my lips, kissing and caressing her, delighting in the small noises she made, the hitches in her breath. For myself, I was intoxicated with her scent, her feel, the sound of her in that hushed room. My body was tensed and straining towards her, but I was determined to set her body fully ablaze with pleasure before taking my own.

My fingers dipped down lower, feeling first her soft curls and then her silky folds. I traced their contours slowly, desirous of learning which touches made her gasp, which caused her body to writhe, and which made her cry out. She was hot and slick, and I gently inserted the tip of my finger into her. My head was resting on her thigh, and I kissed her there as I stroked her. As her breath became more quick and ragged, I replaced fingers with tongue, causing my sprite to give her greatest cry. Very soon, her hips spasmed and her whole body gave a great shudder. My Jane whimpered with her release and lay still, gasping for air.

Stiffly, for my old bones protested my long recumbence, I levered myself up on my good arm and sought her lips with my own. My mouth found her cheek, as her face was turned to one side in languor.

"I...," she began breathlessly, "Edward, I never imagined..." I smiled into her shoulder, pleased with the effect of my labours.

"And the night merely begun," I promised her, lying beside her.

Sometime later, my beloved's breathing returned to normal, and, the remnants of my clothing cast aside, I raised myself above her once more. I thrust into her, as she lay warm and open to me. She gave a brief cry, but I felt her relax soon. I attempted to increase the speed of my efforts, to gain more leverage while keeping my injured arm tucked away from her, but some trick of angles made my hand slip on the sheet and I crashed onto her.

Startled and ashamed, I rolled away from her as quickly as possible, afraid I had injured her with my weight. I searched for her form with my hand, anxious to ascertain if I had given her pain. "Jane, are you injured? Did I hurt you? Blast this arm and these eyes!"

Her hand grasped mine over her ribs. "Edward, I'm perfectly sound. I was only startled."

"I would better believe you could I see the evidence for myself. But this old, blind man is too feeble even for that." I felt Jane turn towards me, and her hand settled against my face.

"Feeble is not a word I would apply to you," she murmured wickedly. My heavy mood was not so easily lifted, however.

"Flatter all you will, child, I nearly killed you just now. What is a husband that cannot even perform his marital duties without danger of injury?" Jane sighed in response to this, then pressed me down with her hand on my shoulder.

I lay back into the pillows, regret and self-rebuke enveloping me still. I could sense Jane moving around me but was surprised when her hand touched my stomach. I suddenly realized that while I lay there, naked and uncovered, my wife could see all of me as I could not see her. When Jane's hand drifted lower to touch my manhood, I was doubly proud of my wife's lack of embarrassment. Her touch grew bolder and firmer, and I felt myself stiffen with the contact. My dark musings could not hold uppermost in my mind for long if this continued. I moaned, and her other hand brushed my lips in response.

Before long, Jane's hand withdrew from my flesh but was soon replaced by the feel of her thighs against mine as she sat astride me. I reached my hand up for her and found the curve of her hip. I pulled her forward, and she lay stretched out fully on top of me. She pressed her lips to mine in a kiss.

She moved back down my body, and I was aware of the tantalizing brush of her flesh against my member. And then, unthinkable though it seemed for my innocent young wife to act so knowingly, I felt warmth surround me as she lowered herself onto me. My hand clutched at her hip as she rose and lowered, slowly, then more quickly. I imagined the picture of her in my mind's eye, hair streaming over her breast, face flushed, body moving, and oh, not a man was ever as in love as I.

As we moved together in that night, I grew aware of my wife as I had never been, even when I saw her with my two eyes. The image of her body seemed to permeate my own being, imprinting itself in my mind, indelibly. Flesh on my flesh, breath to my breath, soul of my soul. My Jane, at last.

 

_"My face in thine eye, thine in mine appears,_

And true plain hearts do in the faces rest ;

Where can we find two better hemispheres

Without sharp north, without declining west ?

Whatever dies, was not mix'd equally ;

If our two loves be one, or thou and I

Love so alike that none can slacken, none can die."

-John Donne


End file.
